


in you everything sank

by sarahyyy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Cancer, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 02:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4810838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He presses his forehead to Enjolras’ shoulder, and cries. He feels Enjolras’ arms wrap around him, and for some reason, that only makes him cry harder. Enjolras says things, whispers fiercely about how he’s going to be okay, and Grantaire starts shaking, because <i>he’s not</i>, and Enjolras doesn’t even know, Grantaire hasn’t even told him yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in you everything sank

1\. 

It’s almost midnight by the time Enjolras comes back. 

“You’re back late,” Grantaire says from where he’s sitting, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “I was going to wait for you to have dinner, but it became pretty apparent that you weren’t going to be back for dinner.”

Enjolras makes a face at that, and joins Grantaire in bed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he tells Grantaire. “We just picked up a new client, and the strategy meeting for his trial took a lot longer than I originally expected.” He kisses Grantaire’s shoulder again. “I should’ve texted.”

Grantaire shifts, moves so he’s curled against Enjolras, and presses his face to the crook of Enjolras’ neck. “I’ve got something I need to tell you,” he says, voice slightly muffled.

Enjolras hums, and starts rubbing circles on Grantaire’s back. “I’m listening,” he tells Grantaire.

Grantaire draws back a little, just enough for him to be looking at Enjolras when he speaks. “I haven’t been feeling too well recently,” Grantaire confesses softly. “At first I thought it was just stress from, you know, prepping for the exhibition, and not getting enough sleep, but Joly made me go see a doctor anyway.”

Enjolras is frowning now, and he’s stopped the soothing motions of his hand on Grantaire’s back. “R?”

Grantaire swallows, because this is the hard part. He should’ve accepted Joly’s offer to stay with him, then maybe he wouldn’t have to tell Enjolras alone. It’s a lot harder than he’d thought it would be, and he didn’t think that it was going to be easy.

“They did a few tests, and the results came back today,” Grantaire says, and knows that Enjolras can hear the break in his voice. He looks away, because Enjolras looks so worried now. “It’s cancer.”

Enjolras stills. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, Grantaire can’t even hear him _breathe_ , and it’s suddenly too overwhelming. The reality of the whole situation must be just catching up to him now, because he wasn’t even so affected back when he was in the doctor’s office. 

He presses his forehead to Enjolras’ shoulder, and cries. He feels Enjolras’ arms wrap around him, and for some reason, that only makes him cry harder. Enjolras says things, whispers fiercely about how he’s going to be okay, and Grantaire starts shaking, because _he’s not_ , and Enjolras doesn’t even know, Grantaire hasn’t even told him yet.

“Enjolras,” he breathes out through a hiccough, fisting his hands into Enjolras’ shirt, pulling him closer. “Enjolras, it’s not- It’s _terminal_ , Enjolras, it’s not going to be okay, it’s never going to be okay, I’m never going to be okay. Enjolras, what do I do?” 

“No,” Enjolras breathes out, shaky. “No, it can’t- _No_. We’ll see another doctor,” he tells Grantaire. “We’ll get a second opinion, a third, there must be something-” His voice cracks in the middle, and he clutches at Grantaire just that much tighter. “There must be _something_.”

 

2.

There isn’t.

 

3.

Grantaire wakes up aching and slightly nauseous. He almost lets out a groan before he sees Enjolras still asleep next to him. 

A quick glance at the clock tells him that it’s past time for Enjolras to go to work, and it’s with a tinge of guilt that he shakes Enjolras up gently, because he’d been sick last night, and Enjolras had stayed up with him, and read to him till he eventually fell asleep. Enjolras must be so tired. 

“Enjolras,” he says, when Enjolras starts to stir. “You’re late for work.”

Enjolras lets out a sleepy groan, and tugs Grantaire closer, so they’re pressed against each other, warm and close. “Don’t have to go into work today,” he mumbles into Grantaire’s neck, and presses a sleepy kiss there before he opens his eyes. “Good morning, love.”

Grantaire smiles. “It is now,” he says, and presses his lips to Enjolras’ jaw. “Did you ask for a day off? I don’t have an appointment today you have to join me for.” 

“Actually,” Enjolras says, and he looks a little hesitant, which instantly puts Grantaire on edge. “I spoke to the partners of the firm, and they’ve agreed to let me go on indefinite leave.”

“No,” Grantaire says, pulling away from Enjolras. “I don’t want you to have to leave your job because of me. I don’t-” He lets out a noise of frustration. “I don’t want to be a burden. You said you wouldn’t let me become a burden, you promised.”

Enjolras shakes his head, and takes Grantaire’s hand in his. “You’re _not_ ,” he tells Grantaire firmly. “I just- I don’t want to waste the time I have left with you. I don’t want to have to regret not spending every single minute we have left with you.” He brings their joined hands up to his lips. “I love you.”

“Enjolras-”

“I love you,” Enjolras says again, more insistent this time. 

He says it a lot more now, as if he’s afraid that Grantaire might not know, and Grantaire knows he’s lost the argument when he can’t help but to reply, “I love you, too.”

Enjolras kisses him, too soft and too gentle, but it still suffuses him with a warmth that he cannot put into words. 

“Please don’t fight me on this,” Enjolras says, and Grantaire relents.

 

4.

Grantaire wakes up to Enjolras’ lips on his cheek, his curls tickling the side of Grantaire’s face. 

“Twenty-six,” Enjolras says, the curl of his lips amused. “That’s how many kisses it takes to wake you up.”

Grantaire smiles at that. “We’ll try for twenty-five tomorrow,” he tells Enjolras. “Won’t want to overexert you, will we?”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Enjolras says, voice dropping to a whisper. “It’s my favourite part of the day.” He presses another quick kiss to the corner of Grantaire’s lips. “We’ll keep it at twenty-six.”

Grantaire sighs, and presses closer to Enjolras.

“How are you feeling today?” Enjolras asks.

 _Like I’m dying_ , Grantaire doesn’t say. “I don’t know,” he says. “Why don’t you give us a smile?” Enjolras does, rolling his eyes a little. “There. I’m feeling much better now,” he says, and isn’t even lying too much.

 

5.

“Do you think you can keep food down today?” Enjolras asks.

Grantaire shrugs, and tries for a smile even though it takes too much effort. “I can try,” he tells Enjolras, and is rewarded with a smile.

“I’ll go make you something light,” Enjolras says, bringing Grantaire’s hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Grantaire doesn’t let go of Enjolras’ hand. “Can you stay with me a bit longer?” he asks quietly, and is reminded of how much he fucking loves Enjolras when Enjolras just crawls back into bed with him, and holds him tightly. “I’m really tired, Enjolras,” he confesses, eyes stinging with tears. 

He hates days like these the most. 

“It’s okay, love,” Enjolras tells him, and Grantaire doesn’t want to turn over to look at Enjolras, because Enjolras sounds like he’s crying too, and Grantaire doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself from following suit if he does. “We can have a lie in.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t think his form of tiredness can be helped just getting more sleep, because it won’t help Enjolras worry less. 

Instead, he says, “You’ll stay right here with me?”

“Won’t leave till you wake,” Enjolras promises, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. 

 

6.

He stirs when he feels Enjolras slip out of bed, and almost reaches out for Enjolras, but he catches himself, because he can hear the soft hitches in Enjolras’ breathing, the ones that mean that Enjolras is crying. He stays silent until he hears the click of the bathroom door, and then slowly gets out of bed, trying to be as quiet as he can. 

From outside the bathroom, he can hear Enjolras clearer now. 

Enjolras is crying, loud heaving sobs, and he’s on the phone, saying, “I don’t know what to do, he’s getting worse, and I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to make him feel better, and I- I can’t lose him, I’m not ready to lose him. I don’t know what I’ll do if I do.”

Grantaire stops listening, makes his way back to bed, and cries himself to sleep.

 

7.

He doesn’t mean to say it, he swears he doesn’t, but Enjolras is still looking at him, so quietly disappointed, like he can’t even be bothered to get angry at Grantaire anymore, like he’s given up just as much as Grantaire has, and he just _explodes_. 

“Then why don’t you _leave_?” he cries. “I’m not keeping you here, I never asked for you to stay, so why don’t you just fucking pack up and leave?” He means to storm off, to barricade himself in the room, but the moment he stands up, a sharp burst of pain goes through him, and his knees give out. 

Enjolras is there immediately, propping him up, looking _terrified_ , and Grantaire hates that, hates making Enjolras worry, hates that his entire existence right now is just a huge burden on Enjolras.

“You need to go, Enjolras,” he says, and he’s crying now, it seems to be all he’s capable of doing these days, and isn’t that fucking pathetic? “You need to leave. I don’t want you to see me like this, I don’t want you to _remember_ me like this.” He presses his face to Enjolras’ chest, digging his fingers into Enjolras’ sides. “Enjolras, won’t you please leave?” he says, sobs the words out.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Enjolras says fiercely, fingers sliding through his hair, his touch gentle. “I’m not leaving. _I love you_.”

“What good does that do now?” Grantaire asks. “I’m not getting better, and we don’t both have to be miserable. I don’t want you to grow to hate me, I can’t have-”

“I’m not going to,” Enjolras says. “I hate that you are miserable, and I hate not being to make it better, but I’ll never hate you. Christ, Grantaire, how could I?” He tips Grantaire’s chin up, and brushes his lips over Grantaire’s.

“Promise me you’ll leave if you start to?” Grantaire says quietly. 

“It’s not going to happen,” Enjolras promises.

Grantaire shakes his head. “Promise me you will anyway.”

Enjolras nods, and presses his forehead to Grantaire’s. 

 

8\. 

He asks Enjolras that night, head pillowed on Enjolras’ chest, “Will you tell me how you’ll remember me when I’m gone?”

Enjolras stiffens under him; Grantaire doesn’t mention it. 

It’s a long moment before Enjolras replies. “The way your face scrunches up when you smile,” he says quietly. “The way you always have paint on your face. The way you always start singing obnoxiously even before you’re really drunk.” His hand finds Grantaire’s, and he laces their fingers together, and squeezes tightly. “I’ll remember how you have so much love in you to give to everyone, how you’re the kindest man I know, how selfless you’ve shown yourself to be among our friends.” Grantaire feels Enjolras press a kiss to the crown of his head, and he closes his eyes. “I’ll remember the way you make me feel, I’ll remember how happy I’ve been to be with you. I’ll remember how much I love you, and how much I’m loved in return.”

Grantaire turns his head slightly to press a kiss to Enjolras’ chest. “That’s nice,” he tells Enjolras, and tries to pretend that he isn’t crying. “That’s how I want to be remembered.”

 

9.

The cancer gets worse, as the doctors say it will, and Grantaire finds himself in pain pretty much constantly now, but he tries to stay upbeat for Enjolras, tries to smile when Enjolras suggests going out for a walk, because he knows that there’s nothing Enjolras can do to ease the pain for him since he’s already on his maximum dose of pain medication, and he doesn’t want Enjolras to feel bad because of that. 

He focuses on the other things instead, the better things, like the feeling of Enjolras’ hand in his, the sound of Enjolras singing in the kitchen, the way Enjolras snores softly in his sleep. 

It does nothing to help to dull the pain, but he can live through the pain if he has something to live for. 

 

10.

“Can I tell you something?” Enjolras says one afternoon, when they’re just sitting on the couch, reading. At Grantaire’s nod, he continues. “Back in February, I think it was just a few days after Valentine’s Day, I went to the jewellers, and I got a ring.”

Grantaire’s breath catches. 

“I had plans,” Enjolras says, smile rueful. “I was going to wait till our anniversary, but-” He cuts himself off. They don’t need the reminder that Grantaire might not make it till their anniversary in December. “I know the circumstances aren’t perfect right now,” Enjolras says, and reaches into his pocket to pull out a ring, “but if you’ll have me, I would like very much to be married to you, to be able to call you my husband.” He takes Grantaire’s hand in his. “Will you marry me, Grantaire?”

Grantaire nods, speechless, and he’s trembling a little when Enjolras smiles at him, bright and happy, shining with satisfaction, and slides the ring onto Grantaire’s finger. Grantaire spends a few moment just staring at the ring on his finger, a simple platinum band, and thinks-

“It’s not fair,” Grantaire breathes out. His voice catches. “We were supposed to have more time, we were supposed to be _happy_.”

Enjolras smiles at him, a little teary-eyed himself, and says, “I am happy, I’ve been happy since the day you agreed to go on a date with me. And I’d like to keep us happy for a little longer.”

Grantaire kisses him. “I love you,” he breathes. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

 

11.

He’s still on the ground, by his toppled easel, by the time Enjolras comes back from the supermarket. 

“Grantaire?” Enjolras’ voice is urgent, he sounds scared, and Grantaire hates himself in that moment just that much more. He crouches by Grantaire. “Grantaire, love, are you okay?”

He shakes his head, because he doesn’t have it in him to lie to Enjolras today. It’s getting so hard to pretend that he isn’t affected by this, that he doesn’t hate how weak he’s become. 

“I just wanted to paint one more thing,” he tells Enjolras. He laughs, and sounds bitter even to himself. “I’m an artist, this is what I’ve done my whole life, and now I can’t even set my easel up.” The tears start flowing again. “I just wanted to paint _one last thing_.” 

Enjolras swallows, and brushes his thumb over Grantaire’s cheek. “R, c’mon, why don’t we set your canvas up on the bed? You can paint there.”

“The sheets will be ruined,” Grantaire points out, but the tight clenching in his chest has eased a little now. 

“Then we’ll buy new sheets,” Enjolras tells him, sure. “It’s about time we got new ones anyway.”

Enjolras helps Grantaire to bed, and then brings him his canvas and his paints, makes sure that Grantaire is comfortably set up in bed before he settles down next to Grantaire to watch him work, his presence quiet and soothing. 

Grantaire paints, and feels more alive than he has in ages. He doesn’t stop, and Enjolras doesn’t make him stop, until he’s done with it. 

Enjolras’ eyes are wet when Grantaire finally turns to look at him. 

“It’s beautiful,” Enjolras says, eyes trained on the canvas on Grantaire’s lap. It’s a portrait of the both of them in happier times, from before the cancer. In the painting, their hands are joined, they have their heads turned slightly towards each other, and they’re both smiling softly. “It’s…” Enjolras trails off. “ _Grantaire_.”

“So you won’t forget,” Grantaire tells Enjolras, smiling tiredly.

 

12\. 

When it happens, it’s eight in the morning, and the sun is shining brightly into their room, just the way Grantaire likes it. He shakes Enjolras awake, urgent, and Enjolras jolts up.

“R? Is everything okay?”

Grantaire barely manages to shake his head through the pain. “It hurts,” he breathes out. “I think- _Enjolras_.”

Enjolras makes a move to turn to the table by the bed, where the morphine is, but Grantaire stops him. 

“Don’t,” he says. “The morphine will make me sleep, and I don’t think- I won’t wake, Enjolras, I don’t think I will. I want every last second with you.” 

Enjolras’ chin wobbles, and he tries furiously to blink his tears away, still fighting to stay strong for Grantaire even now, and Grantaire loves him so much, he does. 

“I’m scared, Enjolras,” Grantaire says, tears falling freely. “I don’t think I’m ready to- I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to leave you.” 

Enjolras holds him tightly in his arms. “I love you,” he tells Grantaire. “I’m not ready to lose you, R, I love you so much.”

“Me too, I love you,” Grantaire tells him. “Always have. So much.” There is so much more to say. He wants to tell Enjolras to take care of himself, wants to tell Enjolras to make sure that he finds happiness for himself again, wants to thank Enjolras for being there, _for loving him_ , but words take so much effort, and he’s just so tired, so he just presses his lips to Enjolras’ skin, and trusts that Enjolras will know what he means. 

He doesn’t know how long they sit there for, it could be a minute, could be an hour, but the pain is starting to fade now. 

“Enjolras?” he mumbles. “I can’t feel the pain anymore. I think… I’m so, so tired, Enjolras, but…” 

Enjolras cries, holds him tighter, and presses his lips to Grantaire’s brow. Grantaire can feel Enjolras’ tears on his face. “It’s okay,” he tells Grantaire. “It’s okay, love, you don’t have to worry about me. It’s okay to go to sleep.”

Grantaire is smiling faintly when he says, “You’ll stay right here with me?”

Enjolras returns Grantaire’s smile, laces their fingers together, and says, “Won’t leave till you wake.”

Grantaire closes his eyes, and lets go.

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry, but Last Cab to Darwin broke me a little, and I had to try to see if I can write the sadness away. 
> 
> As usual, [here on tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com), come say hi!


End file.
